Heidi's Story: From the North Sea to Northern Quebec

Photo above (left to right): Heidi's father tillers the field for Christmas trees (beside him is her brother, Joe, and herself), Heidi & Detlef's dairy farm in Quebec

Heidi is a friend of Oma’s, who shares memories of growing up in North Frisia, moving to Canada as a young mother, and the German foods that became part of family life here.

Her story begins in North Frisia, not far from the North Sea, in a small village called Büttjebüllfeld. It is about four kilometers from the sea, 150 kilometers north of Hamburg, and 40 kilometers south of Denmark. Looking back now, she realizes just how remote that area was, though as a child, it simply felt like home.

“We didn’t travel much at that time because my dad didn’t have a car yet,” she remembers. “I even remember the sand roads. Not gravel, no, sand roads.”

(left to right): Heidi's parents making honey, the kitchen table moved outside, with Heidi's youngest sister in the playpen

It was farming country. Her family lived in the Geest land, where many dairy farmers worked their farms, bordering the marshlands closer to the sea. In those marshlands, many farmers grew cash crops. During the early and mid-1960s, her father had two cows and milked them by hand. Her mother transported the milk in heavy cans fastened to a bicycle, bringing it to the road where it would be picked up by a milk wagon.

By the later 1960s, the roads were paved. But in her memory, those earlier years are still marked by the simplicity and physical work of rural life.

Salty air, seagulls, forests, and heather

When asked what she remembers first from childhood, her answer is beautifully tied to place.

There was the salty air near the North Sea, the breeze, and the sound of seagulls. But even more strongly, she remembers the forest. Her childhood home was surrounded by woods and huge patches of heather.

Because the area was so remote, nature was close by in ways that would be unforgettable to a child.

“I remember adders sunbathing on the sandy roads,” she says.

It is an image that immediately brings that childhood world to life: quiet roads, sandy paths, open land, forest, heather, and the sea never far away.

A tiny kitchen and a mother who fed everyone

In her family home, the cooking was done by her mother.

Always.

There were six children altogether, and the kitchen was tiny. Looking back now, she is amazed by what her mother managed to do in that small space.

“We were 6 children altogether and the kitchen was so tiny,” she says. “I am flabbergasted about her ability to pull off a meal for all of us!”

For many families, the kitchen is where children gather and learn by watching. But in her home, the kitchen was simply too small and the work too constant. Her mother cooked by herself simply because that was the most efficient way to feed everyone.

The foods that still taste like home

When asked what German dish or baked good reminds her most of home, her answer came easily.

“Rouladen, Rotkohl (red cabbage), Brussels sprouts, but also goulash,” she says.

She also remembers Saturday pancakes, the thin kind, sprinkled with sugar and served with apple soup. In her early years, her mother baked a lemon roulade, or Zitronenrolle. Later, she often baked a hazelnut torte.

There was not one particular recipe that stood above all the rest. As she puts it, “It was all good, but nothing extraordinary.”

And perhaps that is exactly the point. So often, the foods that stay with us are not remembered because they were elaborate or unusual. They are remembered because they belonged to regular family life. They were simply part of the rhythm of home.

Rouladen in Northern Quebec

(left to right): Heidi & Detlef's dairy farm in Germany, their farm in Quebec

In 1989, she and her family moved to Canada.

The reason was farming. Dairy farming, specifically. Canada offered fewer restrictions for running a farm, and that opened the door to a new life.

At the time, she was 26. Her husband, Detlef, was 30. Their son Olaf was 7, and Peter was 2.

They settled in the northern part of Quebec, and those first months brought plenty of surprises.

“-25 degree Celsius and a lot of snow!” she remembers. “We weren’t prepared for that.”

There was also the language barrier. They received French lessons almost right away from German-speaking immigrants, which helped. But so much was different: the cold, the language, the distances, the school system, the smell of the farming community, and of course, the food.

They had moved to another farming area, but even farming itself was different from what they had known in Germany.

“We were quite surprised how different farming is practiced in Canada,” she says. “We thought we knew it all.”

The distances were different too. In Germany, town had been five minutes away. In Canada, shopping meant driving about 25 minutes. Her son’s school day was also much longer than it had been in Germany, where he had been finished at 1 p.m.

And then there was the bread.

For many German immigrants, bread is one of the first foods that makes the new country feel very far from the old one. She noticed that difference right away.

The potato problem

Some foods were harder to recreate in Canada.

Finding the right meat for rouladen was a challenge in northern Quebec, especially because rouladen had become their Christmas dinner. She had also been used to baking with sheets of gelatin, which were not available there.

But the biggest challenge was potatoes.

In Germany, she had made a dish with cubed boiled potatoes slowly stirred in heavy cream until the cream came to a light boil and everything became thick and creamy. But the white potatoes available to her in Quebec did not work properly. They fell apart.

“The Germans are totally spoiled when it comes to beer and potatoes,” she says. “The varieties of potatoes are huge there, and tasty.”

Today, she is glad that Yukon Gold potatoes are available. They may not be exactly what they had in Germany, but they are much closer to what she needed.

It is a small detail, but a telling one. Sometimes the foods we miss most are not only finished dishes. Sometimes it is the ingredients themselves: the right potato, the right bread, the right cut of meat, the familiar baking supplies that make a recipe behave the way it always did before.

Homesickness, family, and finding their way

She did experience homesickness after moving to Canada, but it was eased by the fact that her family was together.

“As long as we were together as a family, we were ok,” she says.

They also made acquaintances right away, which helped them begin building a life in their new community.

That answer says something important about immigration. Leaving one country for another is not only about geography. It is about rebuilding the ordinary structures of life: friends, language, shopping, school, work, meals, holidays, and the feeling of knowing how things are done.

For her family, dairy farming gave them a purpose. Family gave them stability. New acquaintances helped them feel less alone.

Christmas Eve and nonnegotiable Rouladen

One German tradition that remained was Christmas on December 24.

As the family grew, that celebration had to be adjusted, but the date remained important. And so did the meal.

“The rouladen are nonnegotiable for the kids,” she says.

That one line says a lot. Even though she does not describe herself as someone who is strongly holding onto German heritage, the family still knows what belongs on the table at Christmas. Rouladen remained part of their new, Canadian family life. It was something the children expected, loved, and claimed as their own.

They also kept Easter traditions, including coloring eggs and having an Easter egg hunt. Over time, those traditions changed as the children grew up and as faith became more central in their lives.

Some traditions remained. Some changed. Some faded naturally. That, too, is part of a real family story.

A different kind of heritage story

When asked what being German means to her now, after building a life in Canada, her answer was refreshingly honest.

“Believe it or not, but I’m not holding on to my German heritage,” she says. “I’m not sad that we left Germany. No homesickness here.”

That may not be the answer people expect in a feature about German roots and traditions. But it may be the most meaningful answer of all.

Not every immigrant story is about longing for the old country. Not every person who leaves Germany spends a lifetime trying to recreate Germany somewhere else. Sometimes people move, build, adapt, and become fully present in the life they have chosen.

And still, certain things remain.

A Christmas Eve meal. A memory of salty air, thin Saturday pancakes with sugar, a father milking cows by hand. Heavy milk cans on a bicycle. Adders sunning themselves on sand roads in North Frisia.

Her story is not one of clinging to the past. It is one of carrying forward what stayed naturally: family, work, food, and the memories that still rise to the surface when someone asks the right questions at the kitchen table.

A few favorites from her German kitchen

Dishes that remind her of home:
Rouladen, red cabbage, Brussels sprouts, and goulash.

Saturday memory:
Thin pancakes sprinkled with sugar, served with apple soup.

Baking memories:
Zitronenrolle in her early years, and later, hazelnut torte.

Foods that were harder to recreate in Canada:
Rouladen because of the meat, recipes using gelatin sheets, German-style bread, and potato dishes that needed the right kind of potato.

Family tradition that stayed:
Christmas rouladen as the nonnegotiable meal.